


long train is long

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Phan, DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, First Meeting, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Manchester, Moon River, Song Parody, Teen Angst, Train Rides, written to frank oceans moon river
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 01:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: on the morning of october 19th 2009, eighteen year old dan steps on the train to manchester to chase his moon river





	long train is long

**Author's Note:**

> i'd recommend listening to frank oceans version of the song 'moon river' whilst listening to this as it really is very beautiful and helped me write this :)

There’s a biting wind outside, the air hangs low in the October morning, an almost-frost, not quite snow, yet not quite dew, sits across car windows and hangs still on the grass.  
When Dan awakes that morning, there’s the chorus of birds outside his window where the tree in his backyard overhangs, the small _tap, tap, tap_ of the small thin branch scrapes slowly against the pane of his window as the wind breezes it slightly.  
  
There’s a small backpack, full of clothes and an assortment of wires, zipped up with an envelope on top of it, where it sits slouched against the foot of his bed.  
A shirt is hanging on the back of his door where his mum had put it yesterday evening, it’s a black and white plaid one.  
  
Dan wakes up slowly, blinking blearily, before peeling himself from the warmth and comfort of his bed to the outside. His bare feet are cold against the cool wooden floorboards, and he knows it’s too early for his dad to put the heating on, so he slips on some socks for comfort.  
He then wanders quietly downstairs, missing the steps with precise aim to avoid any creaks, and makes his way to the kitchen.  
By now, Banghi the family dog has followed him down too, sleepily dragging his paws behind Dan.  
  
Without a word, Dan twists the key that was left it the door overnight, and opens the door, where Banghi happily trots out to, and Dan watches him for a while, sniffing around the bottom of the garden, attention going from bird to bird, before Dan retreats back to the warmth of his kitchen.  
  
He pours himself a bowl of Shreddies, sprinkling a little bit of sugar on top, and as he pours the milk in, some of it sloshing over the sides and over the countertop, he wanders back over to the backdoor to let Banghi, who is contently sat waiting patiently, back inside.  
  
He sloppily eats his cereal, and when he’s finished he makes sure to put his bowl by the dishwasher and folds down the plastic in the box, because he knows his dad hates it when people don’t do that. And he quietly walks back upstairs, Banghi sleepily following him.  
  
Eventually when they slowly reach the top of the stairs together, Dan parts off for the bathroom, and Banghi has wandered nose first into Dan’s room, and Dan pauses, to hear the squeak of his bed and gives a small smile. Of course his big idiot of a dog has gotten into Dan’s bed when he wasn’t there.  
  
Dan grabs a spare towel and once the door is shut and locked, he strips, letting his pyjamas sink down by his feet, and as the shower sprays a weak patter of water against the tiled floor, he lets the steam rise slowly against the glass until it’s fogging the mirror and he steps in.  
The water makes him gasp slightly, but he crooks his neck and feel it trickle down his neck until it’s running hotly down his spine, washing over his entire body, he closes his eyes tightly as he lets the water run freely over his face like a waterfall of warmth.  
  
_He’s seeing Phil for the first time today._  
  
He reaches around blindly for the shampoo on the shelf and when his fingers brush up against it, he quickly snatches it up and steps forward away from the spray.  
He pours a generous amount before running his hand through his hair, fingers working hard against his scalp.  
  
_He’s seeing his boyfriend for the first time today._  
  
He dips his head back under the water again, letting the bubbles run quickly back over his shoulders and his chest, the sweet smell of lemon rising with the steam.  
  
He keeps his eyes closed shut, and when he feels the bubbly liquid run over his face and down his nose, he uses the back of his hand to wipe it away quickly before it gets in his eyes.  
He leans forward and tests it, opening one eye, only to feel the sting right in the corner of his eyes, he curses under his breath, squeezing it shut again, and feels the feeling of a few tears slip down his face, mixing with the water from the shower.  
  
Eventually he manages to save his eye from any more pain, and quickly scrubs his body with the cherry scented body wash his mum had bought home from Pound Land the other day, and he shuts the water off, stepping out.  
  
He does a half job of drying himself and wraps the towel around his waist snugly.  
When he gets back to his room is he reminded by the coldness, it biting against the contrast of his warm skin.  
Banghi is sprawled out happily over his bedsheets, uncaring of Dan that had just entered, and Dan just rolls his eyes at his oblivious dog.  
  
He awkwardly manages to get dressed into his underwear, whispering at Banghi to not look, but of course Banghi lifts his head once, before becoming uninterested, and flops back down to resume his sleep.  
  
He’s going to see Phil today. His heart beats in his chest, just like it has been doing his whole life, but today it races a little too fast and Dan places his palm over it, feeling the thud under his ribs against his hand.  
He slips on his jeans, and decides to wear a tee under his plaid shirt and when he’s dressed he looks at himself in the small mirror he once borrowed from his parents room but never returned.  
  
His hair is starting to curl slightly at the ends, small blobs of water forming at the tips, before free falling onto the floor below, splattering into nothing.  
Dan grabs a brush from his stand and slowly combs through each strand until the curls have been undone, and before they can twist back up, forming into something else, he reaches for his small hairdryer.  
He glances at his closed door, listening for any movement on the other side, but when greeted with silence, he flicks his hairdryer into life onto the lowest setting possible, letting lukewarm arm breeze lazily against his head.  
  
Eventually once his hair is done he straightens it, spending a while on each section, using the skill he’s required after years of practice to make sure it looks perfect. He checks it once, then twice, and a third for good measure and when he deems it perfect he retreats back to the bathroom to go brush his teeth.  
  
The condensation is still hanging onto the walls, dripping sadly down the mirror, leaving small tracks of clear for Dan to look through, but he uses a hand to harshly swipe it away, revealing himself inside of it.  
He brushes his teeth, taking time on each tooth, counting exactly 120 seconds overall, and when he’s done, he cleans his brush with his hands and takes it back out with him to put into his wash bag.  
  
He looks over at his backpack.  
  
_He’s going to Phil’s house._  
  
The train tickets and balanced on top of the bag, sealed safely in the envelope. He slips on his shoes by the door, and after making sure he has everything in his bag; a collection of various outfits just in case, his phone, his phone charger, his wallet with some cash and his card in it, his laptop and laptop charger and a washbag with various deodorants, he deems himself ready.  
  
He wanders back over to the bed where Banghi still lays peacefully. Dan ruffles the fluff behind his ears, causing the dog to sit up, attracted to the attention, when Dan presses a kiss atop of his head, and with that, the dog slowly lays back down, letting out a sigh.  
  
Dan wanders quietly to the landing, his eyes gracing over his parents’ bedroom door which is slightly open, a slither of light spilling out from inside. His heart beats a little harder when he takes a step forward, but instead he turns away.  
He makes his way to Adrian’s room, his door also open, and Dan pokes his head round the door to see his brother contently asleep, mouth agape, much like how Dan himself sleeps, dead to the world.  
  
Dan slips out from behind the door and back to the landing, and down the stairs, heart thudding erratically against his chest with each careful step.  
He clicks the door until it’s locked, and when he’s slipped outside, he’s sure to lift the handle again so it locks, and when he hears the small click, he knows there’s no going back now.  
  
So he walks down the drive and down the street, passing the familiar houses he’s seen every day for the last eighteen years, going further and further until when he looks back, he can’t see his house anymore.  
There’s no traffic around or people, and all he can hear is the sound of concrete under his foot and the far away sound of birds.  
  
When he reaches the train station, his heart only picks up in speed, almost as if it were rolling down a hill, getting faster and faster and faster and –  
He hands the woman his printed ticket and the desk, and she smiles warily at him and he can only offer her a smile back as she hands him over the smaller ticket in return, sending him on his way.  
  
The air is still cold and harsh, and as he stands on the platform, Dan wishes he perhaps thought of bringing a coat.  
He looks up and down the platform, only a few other people sat waiting; a man in a suit reads a paper and a woman with a suitcase taps her foot beside him, her heel clinking against the pebbled floor.  
  
The train sounds a sound in the distance, and Dan grips his backpack strap tightly as it approaches.  
It rolls right up to his feet, and as he steps over the yellow line, he takes a deep breath, and steps onto the train.  
  
There’s a dull ache in his head, and his chest hurts from where his heart hasn’t rested today at all, and he takes a seat by the window, slipping onto it, letting his body relax against the foamy seat.  
He closes his eyes, and shivers as he awaits for the doors to close.  
  
_He’s going to see Phil. He’s on the train to see Phil._  
  
It hardly seems real, it feels like he should still be home, and he’ll wake up any moment now, greeted by his mother telling him to go fold his clothes, or his father asking him to grab the milk out of the fridge for tea.  
  
_But he’s sat on the train to Manchester. To go see his boyfriend._  
  
There’s a whooshing sound that startles Dan, but when he looks round he notices the doors have closed, and a woman has gotten on. Her nose is in a book and she hardly acknowledges Dan.  
  
The train starts with a jolt before it rolls off smoothly down the tracks. Dan watches the window, watching the station disappear from sight, then looking out to the row of houses, then field, and more field, and then there was the school, and eventually, Wokingham disappears from sight, and as the train picks up speed, it became nothing but a beautiful blur of greens and blues and greys.  
  
His breath caught in his throat, and he tried to swallow it down, but everything seemed to be going so fast. The train rocked slightly.  
He grabbed his phone from the front pocket of his backpack, his hands feeling shaky and weak and he fumbled around for it.  
  
He looked back outside the window, seeing the parts of Reading he didn’t recognise, the rolling fields and sheep that had resolved into nothing but blobs, like a painting that water had fell on.  
He closed his eyes before opening them again.  
He looked over to the woman on the other side, flicking a page with her thumb, before his attention went back to the window.  
  
_He was seeing Phil today._  
  
There was something so oddly calm about it all, despite the fear that was pounding through his veins, causing his palms to sweat and leg to bounce up and down.  
He told himself to relax, and tried to imagine Phil.  
  
Everything just seemed so right. He was going to step off this train and into his arms, and maybe it wasn’t movie love or something with fireworks in the background – but it was something Dan found worth cashing on a train for.  
It was something he really, really wanted. Phil was his moon river, he was going after him with all he had, even if it weren’t a whole lot, it still meant something.  
  
His phone buzzed in his hand and Dan froze before turning it over. His parents would be awake by now he supposed, and when he eventually was flipping his phone over in his hands, he was proven right, it was from his mum, and there was what felt like a swarm of bees in his stomach erupting fiercely, and it was like no other fear that he felt for Phil.  
  
But when he finally opening it, the buzzing seemed to cease and was replaced with something so different entirely,  
  
**_mum: you left the backdoor unlocked._**  
  
It was replaced by something unexplainable, something a lot worse than those bees. The feeling of nothing.  
  
Then, as Dan looked back up at the window, seeing a few lone houses pass by, his phone buzzed again, and this time, he saw the woman with the book look up briefly at him before going back to her book again.  
  
He looked down at his phone to see a new text,  
  
__**phil: so excited for today cant wait <3**  
  
Then, that empty feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t full of bees, or fear or nothingness; there was this warmth spreading throughout it, just like the warm shower in the cold morning, like the feeling of cool against hot skin, something so beautiful and unimaginable, and Dan couldn’t help but let his lips curve into a smile.  
  
He looked over to the woman with the book, and their eyes met briefly, before he gave her a small smile, and without waiting for her to even respond, he glanced back out the window again.  
  
The sun had started to rise, the sky had mixed into a beautiful red orange, the dark blue of the night still there leaking into the morning.  
The train rushed past new buildings, some fields that all looked the same, and a collection of farm animals.

Dan had seen a lot of the Earth; he travelled to Australia when he was seven, saw India every year since he was four, he went to magical places with his family and saw some amazing things.  
But Dan felt as if he was going to see the World for the first time, like a sunrise clearing his vision, like he’d just cleared his sight from lemon scented shampoo – it was like he was taking the first breath of his life.  
  
This was seeing the world. This was living.  
  
He know he still had about three hours and a half to go, he felt that burning desire in his body, to get up and run to Manchester himself.  
He was so scared, _so, so_ scared, but he didn’t care. He knew Phil would be sat in his room, his ridiculous stupid Buffy covered room, feeling the same things as Dan was now.  
  
The train wobbled as it went on towards its destination, and by the time it arrived, hours later, the sun was high in the sky, the remains of the night sky had been washed away with the blue of the sky now.  
It stopped and Dan gathered his belongings, gathering everything, he looked over at the woman on the other side of the train, who seemed to have finished her book, he nodded over to her and she nodded back, and Dan stood up and strides towards the doors.  
  
There was that familiar whooshing sound as the slid open stiffly, and as they did, the cold air knocked into Dan, hard.  
He looked across at the platform, his heart in his mouth, eyes looking over at the few hundred people there. He couldn’t see Phil yet, but with air sitting heavily in his lungs, he stepped off the train.  
  
He took two shaky steps, before there was the small sound of his name being called, and when Dan looked over towards it, it was like that hot shower all over again.  
He dropped his bag and he thinks even his phone, but he doesn’t care because Phil was yanking him into a tight hug, and when he registers what’s happening, he lifts his arms up to hug him back.  
  
Everything feels so weird, as if its underwater, but when Phil eventually pulls apart, their faces inches away, and he’s looking into those deep blue, beautiful eyes, Dan doesn’t seem so unsure anymore, because even though he’s miles away from mum, dad, Adrian and Banghi and Wokingham; when he looks up at Phil who has the most incredible smile plastered on his face and everything just seems to _click;_ Dan doesn’t feel so far away from home anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this whilst listening to frank oceans moon river, sat with my window open, listening the trains going by the station outside, so it was really therapeutic to write, and hopefully it was just as relaxing to read as it was for me to write it :)
> 
> if you liked this fic please give me a kudos or a comment and let me know what you thought of the fic (and the song if you like!!)
> 
> also you can come say hi on my tumblr which is @watergator where i post all of my fics also :) 
> 
> thanks for reading!! bye :)


End file.
